But the next barrage of attacks was already closing in. Mo Wentian had no time to dwell on their betrayal. He could only grit his teeth and fight back.
Spells and magical treasures filled the sky, bursting in blinding flashes that lit up the entire Mo clan estate. More and more people turned their attention to the battle formation above, worry written all over their faces.
Soon, Mo Wentian collapsed to the ground, severely wounded. His chest was soaked in blood. The spiritual energy within his body had long fallen into chaos, completely out of control.
Lasting this long had already pushed him to his limit.
Lying there, he looked up at the mysterious figure in the sky. Blood slipped from the corner of his mouth once more.
"You... why... would you help her... hurt me?"
Mo Wentian truly could not understand why anyone would willingly involve themselves in the Mo clan's mess.
Was she not afraid of bringing disaster upon herself?
A calm voice came from beneath the black cloak.
"This is your retribution."
"Retribution?"
Mo Wentian muttered, then suddenly let out a laugh.
Retribution?
Winners live, losers die. Where was the so-called retribution in that?
He pushed himself upright, sneering coldly.
"Fine. I lost today. I'll admit my defeat."
"But—"
His expression shifted sharply. In the next instant, his body began to swell violently.
"If I'm going to die, then none of you should think about living either! Hahaha!"
"Damn it! He's going to self-detonate! Stop him now!" Mo Rou's face changed drastically as she shouted.
Everyone lunged toward Mo Wentian in unison.
A self-detonation from someone at the peak of the Nascent Soul stage was beyond their ability to withstand. Even the formation around them would be destroyed.
If he succeeded, the entire Mo clan...
"Hahaha—"
Mo Wentian laughed maniacally, madness flashing in his eyes.
He threw a provoking glare at Song Wanníng.
So what if they won?
They would still die!
"Ha."
A soft laugh echoed in his ears.
Mo Wentian's swollen body suddenly froze in place. An irresistible pressure pressed down on him like a mountain, bones creaking under the weight. If it had been under normal circumstances, he might have been able to resist it. But now, he was powerless.
Boom—
He crashed heavily to the ground, staring at the black-cloaked figure in disbelief. His pupils trembled.
"You... you're in the Divine Transformation stage..."
No wonder. No wonder Mo Rou had dared to go this far. She had found such a terrifying ally. Song Wanníng gave no reply. Instead, she coldly addressed Mo Rou and the others.
"What are you waiting for? Planning to keep him alive to listen to more nonsense?"
Mo Rou's expression shifted. "Take him down!"
The group charged again.
This time, Mo Wentian had no strength left to hold them off. He watched the attacks descend, knowing that his end had come. Still, he was filled with unwillingness. He had always been the stronger one. Yet in the end, the position of Patriarch had fallen to Mo Rou, who had been inferior to him in every way.
Because of that injustice, he had fought her his entire life, only to lose in the end.
He had lost everything to Mo Rou. How could he accept that?
But it was too late. Mo Wentian's body was split apart. His Yuányīng was annihilated before it could even escape, completely erased from the world.
A Nascent Soul peak-stage cultivator had fallen—just like that. The two who had defected felt a chill in their hearts. They turned their heads away from the scene. Mo Wentian, once so powerful and arrogant, was now dead. And their own futures were looking bleak as well.
Sigh.
The other Nascent Soul cultivators were torn between relief and unease. Mo Rou stood frozen, staring at Mo Wentian's corpse. For a moment, it all felt like a dream.
Since childhood, Mo Wentian had constantly provoked her, leading others in bullying her. He came from the secular royal family's Mo branch. Influenced by worldly views, he believed women were born to serve men. Even when a woman had powerful cultivation, he never saw her as truly formidable.
She still remembered how he once boasted that she might as well become his concubine—stay in the inner courtyard, raise children, and serve her husband.
She had been furious at the time. And to prove him wrong, she had disciplined herself for over three hundred years, never once slacking.
Now, with her greatest enemy dead, she felt a strange moment of confusion.
But the feeling quickly passed.
Her life had never been about anyone else.
Everything she fought for was always for herself—never for him.
Mo Rou curved her lips into a smile and looked up at Song Wanníng, offering a genuine expression of gratitude. She moved her lips silently.
"Thank you."
Song Wanníng gave a slight nod, her eyes softening with an emotion that hadn't been there before.
In that moment, even the cold night wind felt gentler.
Moonlight spilled across the ground, as if draping Song Wanníng in a veil of silver mist. She cast one final glance at Mo Wentian's corpse, then turned and soared into the darkness. In the blink of an eye, she vanished.
Other than Mo Rou, no one knew who she was or where she came from.
No one knew where she had gone.
Mo Rou watched her leave, a complicated feeling rising in her heart.
Song Wanníng had claimed she only came to help them deal with the merfolk, but in truth, she had given them a safe path forward.
This favor... was a heavy one.
She gave a wry smile.
"That woman..."
She had done it on purpose.
Letting out a long sigh, Mo Rou thought that perhaps, having a friend like Song Wanníng was not such a bad thing.
Maybe it was time to deepen the Mo clan's cooperation with the Song family.
After all, Mo Rou was not someone who forgot a debt of gratitude.
"Clean this place up. And not a word of what happened tonight is to be spread," she ordered, eyes cold.
Her gaze landed on the two traitors like a blade.
"We understand, Patriarch. Don't worry."
They nodded weakly, no longer as bold as they had been just yesterday. Who would have thought that the two who swore allegiance to Mo Wentian by day would be bowing to Mo Rou by night?
Soon, the battlefield was cleared, the formation withdrawn, and everything returned to an eerie calm—as if nothing had happened.
But everyone in the Mo clan felt it. Something had changed.
Mo Rou acted swiftly. By the time morning came, everyone who had aided Mo Wentian's misdeeds had been arrested. These were all Mo clan disciples, though. She could not eliminate them all without crippling the clan's strength.
So she chose a few prominent examples, executed them to send a message, and brought the matter to a close.
As for the public explanation, the Mo clan announced that Mo Wentian had died at the hands of the merfolk, ending in mutual destruction.
In one night, the Mo clan had been reshuffled. People across the cultivation world whispered in speculation.
But Song Wanníng paid no mind.
She spent two days at an inn with the merfolk, waiting for Feng Lanxi to arrive. Once she did, the three of them set out for the Wuyou Sea.
The merfolk was tucked away in a spirit beast pouch and never released. Feng Lanxi had no idea that the very creature dominating public gossip was right beside her.
They rushed to their destination, and after a month, finally arrived at the Wuyou Sea.
But the moment they reached it, Feng Lanxi's expression changed drastically.
The legendary Wuyou Sea had turned into a vast desert.